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Itadori Yuuji was promised to Gojo Satoru when the former was only three years old.
To a clan as prestigious as one of the three great families, a boy would ordinarily be as useful a bride as a screen door on a submarine. A marriage incapable of producing an heir was utterly purposeless.
But Yuuji was a special boy, born with both male and female parts between his legs, and when the doctors employed under the Gojo clan confirmed Yuuji’s fertility, the marriage was arranged without either child’s knowledge.
In his twilight years, Wasuke held no illusions as to how low his sun had set. If he did nothing, Yuuji may well be cast alone and in complete darkness before he learned simple addition. For this reason, he made a proposition the average person would find unthinkable, and leveraged his grandson’s unique constitution to bargain his future away.
There was more at stake than merely condemning a young child to orphanhood. Yuuji’s physique was preternatural and brought into this world by a demon wearing the face of a dead woman, an aberration beyond Wasuke’s understanding. He’d devoted what time and resources remained in his life to finding his way through the line drawn between worlds, until the day he’d found himself and his grandson seated before a stern-faced patriarch and his icey statue of a wife.
The only goal on Wasuke’s mind was securing his grandson a safe and comfortable home to take him in following his death, one capable of protecting the boy from those monsters that lurked in Japan where the shadows were the darkest.
Meanwhile, the Gojo clan benefitted by adding an unusual outsider to their family line. True hermaphroditism was already remarkable, but three-year-old Yuuji proved his body a font of potential when he lifted a fifteen-kilogram log at Wasuke’s behest.
A unique talent with no messy ties to powerful families. No ties at all, really. In the event he proved unsatisfactory, the marriage could be easily annulled and passed on to a branch member. Meanwhile, if they turned the offer down, the old man could simply offer the promising child to another family. The lord and lady of the house shared a glance.
The news was not received well, when it finally reached Satoru’s sixteen-year-old ears.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“You’re all fucking insane,” Satoru snarled, slamming the flat of his fist onto the table so hard the tea sloshed from their cups. The cold-hearted old bag he had to call his mother narrowed her eyes at him like he was the one who was out of line for having a problem with getting engaged to a fucking toddler. For fuck’s sake, the little brat still needed his grapes cut into quarters!
Diagonal from where Satoru hunched and scowled like an angry gargoyle, a little boy blinked his amber eyes at him. They were gigantic and round, like some kind of pink baby owl.
But even baby owls had brains, right? Satoru was tall and broad, not yet filled out but undeniably intimidating to such a tiny child, so he wasn’t sure if it was a credit to the potato’s bravery or an omen of his stupidity that he didn’t react as fearfully as a normal child should, “I’ll be good,” he promised guilelessly, as though he was trying to reassure a parent to let him play outside unsupervised instead of securing a marriage contract.
Satoru barked a laugh, bitter and disbelieving that his life had come to this, “Oi, do you even know what a ‘wife’ is?”
The brat pursed his lips together and squinted his eyes. Was he trying to shit his diapers, or did he always look like that when he was trying to use his brain? Satoru glanced at the old man beside the boy and silently asked with his expression alone what the hell he was thinking, which he returned with an unreadable expression.
What the fuck, the old fox could clear out all the casinos in Vegas with that poker face.
Eventually, the kid lifted a short, chubby finger and pointed to himself, and then Satoru, “Mommy and daddy,” he recalled.
The face Satoru made would be burned into Yuuji’s memory even years later, when all but the most fleeting traces of his own grandfather had sunken into the bottom of the well in his mind. Aside from pictures, his recollection could only draw up the vague form of Wasuke’s face, a featureless impression left in sand. But the red-faced, gobsmacked shock on Satoru’s face was a nostalgic photograph that he could take out at his leisure and chuckle over.
Given his age, Yuuji was permitted to enjoy his childhood with his own family, so they went their separate ways after all demands for annulment fell on deaf ears.
But something must have happened in the two years that passed since their engagement.
Their next meeting followed Wasuke’s passing. Having nowhere to go but his fiance’s estate, Yuuji arrived on their doorstep a small and heartbroken five-year-old. Though he still needed his grapes cut -albeit into halves now instead of quarters- Satoru greeted him with far more warmth than before. Awkward, at first, but with an earnestness that reminded Yuuji of his grandpa whenever he was lecturing him about taking responsibility and doing things “properly”, the way a boy should do things if he wanted to grow up into a decent man. It was more of a comfort than any sweet words could provide.
What a difference two years made. Sixteen-year-old Satoru almost seemed like his own immature little brother compared to his eighteen-year-old self.
From that day, Gojo Satoru took guardianship of his own future wife, tending to the flower he would one day pick.
Itadori Wasuke died when Yuuji was very young, so for all but his earliest memories, whenever Yuuji recalled the important milestones for growing up, his own future husband was there. When Yuuji started elementary school, it was Satoru who accompanied him and greeted his teachers. When Yuuji lost his first tooth, it was Satoru who took him to bury it for good luck. For Yuuji’s first Setsubun in the Gojo household, Satoru stomped around as an oni and let his giggling little fiance throw beans at him, shrieking and pretending they burned. When it came time for parent-teacher conferences, it was Satoru who attended for Yuuji, asking all the questions any parent would.
He’ll never forget his first Class Visitation day. Satoru stood tall and handsome in his sleek sunglasses and finely-tailored suit, the only man among the line of women and much too young to be the father of an elementary-schooler. Though always the picture of a “handsome adult” to Yuuji, their hushed whispering only got more excited as the years refined and polished Satoru’s charm to a deadly, heart-stopping point. His big body grew even bigger, though Yuuji wouldn’t have been able to tell without overhearing the head tailor muttering about adjusting his wardrobe for yet another growth spurt. Satoru grew a little more even as late as his early twenties, but it was hard to really understand that when he was always bigger than Yuuji.
Much later, when Yuuji was barely twelve and woke up with blood on his futon and searing agony chewing up his stomach, it was Satoru who held him close and stroked his back. It wasn't the worst pain imaginable, but it was completely alien to hurt somewhere from so deep inside, and so unsettling that Yuuji couldn't tough it out like he could a sucker punch to his jaw. Even though he was normally hardy, Satoru believed him and was even kind enough to indulge him and call the school. Although he had to lie and say his son was sick. It would be tough to explain how someone who was supposed to be a normal boy needed to stay home because he was a little overwhelmed with his first period.
By ninth grade, Yuuji’s last year of middle school, the tale of his very tall and handsome step-dad had spread by word-of-mouth into legend. Girls would crane their necks as far as they could to steal a peek on days Satoru picked Yuuji up from school, little safari explorers honored by the rare sight of the most majestic lion in the savanna. With his moon-touched features and ethereal beauty, Satoru stood stark against the brutish concrete background, especially when dressed in fine kimono, attire he’d had come to prefer as he neared his thirties. There was a mythical air about him, so lovely that the man-made constructs around him appeared all the more vulgar.
“Kimonos are more comfortable than suits,” he’d grin, the gleam in his eyes wicked with the lies that glittered in them. The real reason Satoru preferred kimonos now was their convenience.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Heat, searing and pulsating. Addictive desire coursed through Yuuji’s veins as he sat in his fiance’s lap and locked tongues with him in the backseat of his elegant black car.
Let the record show that it wasn’t Yuuji’s choice to indulge like this on the school sidewalk- the door had scarcely shut before Satoru yanked him into his lap and crushed their lips together.
The man was ravenous like he hadn’t had a bite to eat in his entire life and a juicy, sweet little peach had fallen into his lap. Satoru smirked just before he nibbled on Yuuji’s bottom lip, lighting sparks of pleasure on the sensitive skin and numbing the back of his brain. He whimpered, flushed too hot for his own skin and squirming restlessly on hard, muscled thighs as he breathed in the masculine scent of Satoru’s sandalwood and jasmine aftershave.
Satoru chuckled, low and throaty, fanning hot breaths between their tangled tongues. His large hand shamelessly reached into the narrow space between them and cupped between Yuuji’s legs, right over the mound of his cock. Amber eyes flew wide open and he pulled back with a sharp, startled squeak, like a puppy whose tail was stepped on. “Satoru-san, hold on, not here-” He cut off with a soft, helpless moan when Satoru ground his palm hard.
“What’s wrong? It’s just us.”
Just Yuuji, Satoru, and a swarm of students .
They were still parked by his school’s front gates, after all. All Yuuji had to do was look forward and over Satoru’s shoulder to see a throng of other kids milling about, goofing off, or walking by. All innocently unaware of the debauchery hidden by a mere millimeters of glass. Their voices were muffled, but the air of youthful excitement for the weekend was palpable.
Hearing his classmates’ chatter while sitting in his guardian’s lap threaded shame so tightly into the pleasure that neither could be separated from the other and made Yuuji’s head spin a little.
He bit back another moan when Satoru rubbed circles between his legs with just enough pressure to stir the molten tide building in his belly, ““Can’t we go home first?” Yuuji muttered into the space between their lips, red-faced and peering into ice blue eyes, their pupils dilated until they threatened to swallow the entire iris, no different from a cat eyeing a limping rabbit. Yuuji shivered.
Paternal amusement shone clearly on Satoru’s face, like Yuuji was being an adorably fussy child, but the cut of his smile was dangerous. Hungry. He swiped the tip of his tongue across his top lip. “Can you really wait that long?” he teased, pressing meaningfully into Yuuji’s half-hard cock and delighting in his pitiful whimper. “Look at you,” he cooed with mock sympathy, every word cloying with a thick coat of sugar, “I bet you’re already wet for me.”
Compared to his boy parts, Yuuji’s girl parts took a little more effort to get excited, though not by much anymore. All the loving attention Satoru has lavished onto him changed Yuuji’s body, activating sensations that were once dormant and reluctant to wake.
Yuuji’s first experience was on a cool autumn night, twelve years old and splayed on his back, thighs parted so his guardian could nestle his head between them. While Yuuji’s first orgasm was by his own hand, desire for his fiancee overtaking his mind and then his body as he fucked his fist to completion, his first vaginal orgasm was mercilessly pulled from him by that very man’s clever tongue.
It was fair to say Yuuji instigated it, sniffing a sleeping Satoru and touching himself beneath the sheets. So deeply did he lose himself in his pleasure that his heart nearly stopped when he fluttered his lashes open and saw a pair of blue eyes glowing through the darkness, belonging to a man who was very much awake.
They locked gazes for only the briefest of moments, a thousand words spoken in their silence. It was no secret that they would be wed one day, but up till now, Satoru’s love and care had always been innocent, watching over Yuuji with the careful eye and gentle hand of a guardian, not a lover. Never had he strayed beyond the boundaries drawn between adults and children, not even by a single toe.
Conscientious in this duty to a fault -uniquely so given the man’s notoriously frivolous personality- to the extent that it planted a very tiny seed in a dark corner of Yuuji’s mind. Perhaps Satoru was never interested in seeing him that way and never would.
It was a lonely thing to consider, when puberty only made Yuuji more acutely aware of the handsome man who belonged to him for as long as he could remember. Satoru was the only family Yuuji had, and a child couldn’t hold onto their parent like a wife could. Children were destined to fly from their parents’ nest and build their own lives, and Yuuji would claw and scrape his own fingernails off to hold onto his life at Satoru’s side.
Intense energy roiled in Satoru’s eyes, and in the storm, Yuuji realized the error in his doubts.
There were many reasons one might hold back from devouring a fruit still on its branch.
For the first time, the flower hole between Yuuji’s legs pulsated. Even while pinned in place by Satoru’s unwavering stare, he was so startled he couldn’t stop himself from whimpering and squeezing his thighs together beneath the sheets.
At that moment, Satoru’s pupils blew into vast, bottomless pools so quickly it was a little frightening.
His cunt was the key, Yuuji realized. The flower between his legs finally blooming, first by his period and now gleefully flaunting its development seemed to activate something in his fiance. Perhaps it reminded Satoru how close they were to the day the child in his arms would spread his legs and accept his cock as his dutiful little wife.
Waiting for fruit to ripen before devouring should not be mistaken for disinterest in eating it.
Bestial hunger gnawed them both from the pits of their bellies, and neither had the strength to wait a minute more, let alone for mere ceremony. For a pair of betrotheds who’d lived so closely with one another for so many years, a wedding was only formality. Yuuji welcomed Satoru’s advance when he was pressed onto his slender back; he’d been seeing it in his dreams for almost a year already.
He just wasn’t prepared for what it really meant to have an adult spread him open and devour him.
His pussy was a thousand times more sensitive than his cock, and the pleasure, too different to compare. Sharp and stabbing, it was a sensation that chipped away at his body and mind until he was nothing but a soft, gooey little treat to be gobbled up.
High-pitched whining and vague, frightened noises slipped from him as an unknown and great tide threatened to swallow him and carry him away. No matter how fiercely he squirmed, Satoru’s large, rough palms pinned him down like an unruly baby snake caught by the head. Trapped and overpowered, Yuuji had no choice but to surrender himself to the maddening drag of slick muscle across his sopping wet slit.
Between the lewd squelching sounds and their ragged breaths, the occasional, “no” or “don’t touch there” eked from Yuuji’s trembling lips. To most listeners, his cries would’ve made it ambiguous if Satoru’s little betrothed welcomed or rejected their intimacy. That night taught Yuuji the beast that lurked beneath his gentle and caring Satoru’s beautiful skin, one that normally hid his fangs from his young fiancé.
Yuuji also learned what a terrible sadist he could be.
In hindsight, his fear and confusion at the overwhelming stimulation likely only stoked Satoru’s excitement, especially when Yuuji had so clearly contradicted himself, spreading his legs wider and clutching the back of his fiancé's snowy head like a balloon that would drift away and never return if let go.
Afterwards, Satoru cradled him close to his chest and wiped his tears with his thumb, peppering kisses on his round, sticky cheeks. The scalding heat of the act, engulfed by so much pleasure his own body seemed a foreign thing, was a little scary, but the pampering afterward planted a seed. Tucked into a broad, protective body, anticipation for when he might next be taken apart in Satoru’s bed took root.
Ever the capable man, his fiancé didn’t keep him waiting long, having another taste in their private bath the morning after.
Nowhere in his wildest pubescent imagination did he picture doing this in the car’s backseat while it was parked in front of his own school.
Satoru reached lower and rubbed two fingers between Yuuji’s legs, perfectly aimed over the mount of his cunt, then flexed and dug their tips right where his honeyed hole fluttered against its confines. Yuuji’s slacks weren’t much of a barrier against the firm pressure, and he felt the soft cotton of his boxer-briefs part his folds open and grind into the drooling little mouth inside.
Yuuji’s fingers clutched the man’s powerful shoulders as his neglected clit throbbed, the well-trained little bud screaming and begging its master for his touch.
Eyes flashing with near-malicious satisfaction, Satoru traced his fingers around Yuuji’s waistband, idly circling the button in front like a crow waiting for the perfect moment to take a bite. “Let’s check. If your pussy isn’t wet, you’re a good boy and we can go home. But if it’s soaking your cute little boy-panties,” The white-feathered crow swooped down, thrusting his hand into Yuuji’s clothed pussy and reveling in his fractured moan, “I’ll fuck you in front of all your friends.”
The blood pounding Yuuji’s veins froze solid; the damp, sticky press of his undergarments was now contraband he couldn’t hide. “N-No,” he whined, “Let’s go home.”
Satoru tutted, affecting paternal sternness, “Perverted boys need their fathers for guidance.” He clapped his palm on Yuuji’s clothed backside playfully, “Don’t worry, daddy will straighten you out.”
“You’re my fiancé…” Yuuji retorted weakly as the man’s other hand flicked open and parted his uniform slacks.
“The fiancé who raised you.” He wilted his tall body, a pitiful flower left to wither by the very rain abandoning him, “And yet you’ve never called me dad.”
Heat seared the apples of Yuuji’s cheeks, “You’re trying to get me into something weird again,” he muttered.
Satoru snorted, “Don’t act like you didn’t love getting tied up and blindfolded. You got so wet, darling. You could have rescued a man from the desert,” he purred, idly tugging Yuuji’s underwear waistband from his abdomen and letting it snap back into his skin, much in the way a cat might toy with a mouse stuck beneath its paw. Then his tone turned coaxing, “Just give it a try. It’s only us here. Only me. Nothing is too embarrassing for your husband, Yuuji. I’m the one you came to that time you wet the bed, remember?”
“Don’t bring that up now… ”
“But it was so cute!”
Lately, Satoru’s been on a “daddy” kick. For all that he firmly occupied the role, he never suggested Yuuji call him any variation of “dad” throughout his childhood, nor did he ever explicitly called himself one.
Until now, but only when doing very un-fatherly things to his step-son. Such as snaking his hand inside Yuuji’s underwear and palming his molten, soaking wet cunt.
As Yuuji whined and squirmed at the cool touch, torn between shying away and rocking his hips to finally get some pressure on his aching clit, Satoru leaned in until his lips brushed his ear. “Bad boy,” he murmured. The words sliced down like a guillotine, his tone low and dripping with dark promise.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Plap, plap, plap.
“Ah! A-Ah! Satoru-san!”
“Haha, can you feel the car shaking?”
Beyond the thin barrier of one-way glass, Yuuji could see his classmates' brows furrowing, could see them pointing and murmuring to one another at the fancy car still parked on the sidewalk. Was it really shaking? Yuuji couldn’t tell was bouncing too hard on Satoru’s cock to read their lips.
After decrying him as a very bad boy, Satoru forced Yuuji to strip naked on threat of ripping his clothes off and spanking him until he couldn’t sit down. The feral, jagged edges that lined his countenance said it was a very bad idea to put to the test if he’d really do it.
Then Satoru tugged his sash, loosening his very convenient kimono just until his hard cock could spring free, lined himself up with Yuuji’s entrance, and ordered him to sink down.
It was so, so easy. Yuuji’s hole was so drenched and eager that it practically sucked Satoru’s girth inside, the velvet hold of his walls a snug suction that had the man groaning long and deep with utter satisfaction. Further and further Yuuji sank down the shaft, stretching his little hole that once screamed and ached to accommodate Satoru’s considerable size. Now it came naturally as breathing, as though he’d been carved up and remolded into his fiance’s shape.
Yuuji took Satoru in deeper until the blunt tip kissed a narrow opening at the furthest depths. A quiver rattled his spine and his toes flexed- he stopped there, hovering a small distance over Satoru’s muscled thighs.
Fully joined, they shared a moment of relief in one another, Yuuji in the throbbing emptiness finally being filled, and Satoru, in the slick suction enveloping nearly every inch and every curve of him, so tight and hot he could imagine himself melting away. Falling forward, Yuuji wrapped his arms around Satoru’s neck and dropped his head onto his wide shoulder, focusing on breathing in his gentle, masculine scent.
Otherwise, he’d have to keep looking out the rear window and contend with seeing so many familiar faces while naked and riding his fiance like a well-trained and even better-paid porn star. Or maybe an illegal escort, given his age.
As though knowing his thoughts to the letter, Satoru grasped his waist with unyielding strength and fucked upwards into him so hard he bounced up. Yuuji gasped, sharp and breathy, when he felt something batter into that sensitive, narrow opening inside. He arched his back and angled his hips, shying away. Fucking his cervix never failed to completely tear him apart, and he’d die of shame if he fell to pieces on Satoru’s lap mere feet away from his classmates.
The new angle rubbed his clit hard against Satoru’s abdomen with every plunge in and out of his molten center, pleasure white-hot and rocketing up his spine before fading. Eager to chase the sparks bursting inside, Yuuji’s hips moved on their own, rocking in time with Satoru’s movements.
A wide palm pressed into Yuuji’s back and pushed him even closer, until no gap remained between their upper bodies. There was nowhere for Yuuji to place his legs except spreading them out as wide as they could go and folding them slightly back, bending his spine into a sharper arc that pushed Satoru’s fat cockhead directly into his g-spot.
Stars exploded in Yuuji’s vision, pleasure sharp and electric wrenching a pathetic cry from him and chipping away at his sense of control over his own body. Huddling together so tightly slowed their pace to long and deep grinds on Satoru’s lap, relentlessly toying with the sensitive, spongy flesh inside and making him tremble violently.
There wasn’t enough room between Satoru’s head and the ceiling for Yuuji to wedge his face into his hair, and they were pressed too tightly together now for him to drop his face into his shoulder. Strength sapping away, Yuuji’s face fell forward with nowhere to hide from the sight of his schoolmates.
Such clean glass, it was almost like it wasn’t there, and that anyone who glanced in their direction would be able to see the school’s famous bad boy naked and reduced to a mewling kitten on his guardian’s cock.
Satoru grunted and dug his fingers into the meat of Yuuji’s thighs hard enough to leave marks, “You got tight,” he snickered, voice husky and thick, oozing with an adult man’s sensuality. “Pervert. Who raised such a bad boy?”
‘That would be you!’ Yuuji wanted to whine, but could only let out another broken whimper, his tongue clumsy and useless.
That fateful autumn night a couple years ago opened the floodgates, and nothing else remained to hold Satoru back from indulging in his little fiance, who in turn, was all too eager to drown himself in such a heavy pool of lust and love. Beginning with kissing and petting and escalating until the night he turned thirteen and was split open on his fiance’s cock for the first time.
The first time was also the only time Satoru took Yuuji like he was precious glass that would break if not handled gently. After that, Satoru didn’t hesitate to hold him down and pound his cunt until his insides were rearranged into his perfect sheath. Now, Yuuji can’t even come unless the deepest parts of him are stimulated in the way they’d been trained to expect.
It was Satoru who painstakingly molded him into this pornographic thing on his lap.
Knowing full well who the culprit was, the man spanked his bare bottom, hitting both cheeks when their size difference was so pronounced, and grinned viciously when Yuuji cried out, “Daddy doesn’t remember raising you to be so bad.” With both hands, he squeezed the meat of Yuuji’s cheeks hard enough to hurt a little.
To the side, a trio of girls murmured behind cupped hands and glanced rapidly between one another and the mysterious black car on the sidewalk, until one of them sagged her shoulders and stepped forward.
Oh god, she was approaching the car.
Yuuji didn’t realize how tense he became until Satoru released an utterly guttural noise from the back of his throat. “What? Wanna say hi?” he rasped.
He wouldn’t-
Alarm bells screamed between Yuuji’s ears, and before he could resist, a flash of movement tilted the world as Satoru quickly rearranged their positions, pushing Yuuji’s trembling body into the passenger door and yanking his hips into the air. A hand slid into his hair, locking him into a place with a grip of steel. Forehead shoved against the glass, Yuuji had nowhere to turn his head and nowhere else to look except out into the street, into the familiar faces he saw every day in the school halls.
“Satoru-san,” he whined, pinned and squirming uselessly.
“I thought you liked this position?” asked Satoru, pretending not to understand. He released his hold on Yuuji’s head only to forward, draping himself on the boy’s quivering back to peer out the window with him.
This position surrendered all control to Satoru, and he began thrusting hard, filling their surrounds with an obscene, wet slap every time his hip bone hit Yuuji’s bottom hard enough to jiggle the flesh. He didn’t hesitate to plunge deeper than Yuuji did, slamming his thick cockhead into the fluttering, narrow opening of Yuuji’s cervix.
Yuuji nearly screamed into the open air, blocked just barely in time by one of Satoru’s large hands clamping over his lips, muffling the noise into a broken cry. “Inside voices, baby,” he mocked before licking his ear, the noise lewd and wet and the sensation making his spine arch. “We don’t want to scare her, right?”
Forced to stare ahead, Yuuji could only watch as a girl he recognized from homeroom closed the distance and stood just on the other side of the door. He wanted to look away, he wanted to turn around and hide himself in Satoru’s broad body, but all he could do was stare wide-eyed like a deer in headlights, transfixed in his horror.
Rivulets of slick juice oozed down Yuuji’s thighs and fell onto the car seats as fat raindrops, his cunt soft and drooling eagerly for the delicious meat feeding it. Satoru puffed a haggard laugh and swatted his bottom, “Easy. Are you trying to pinch my dick off?”
If Yuuji did, it would mean losing the secret eighth wonder of the modern world, but at least Satoru wouldn’t be able to bully him with it anymore.
Then the girl learned forward, cupping her eyes with her hands to block the light and squinting as hard as she could into the glass. Their gazes met, and through such clear, pristine glass, Yuuji could make out the different flecks of brown in her dark eyes.
The windows were one-way, the windows were one-way, the windows were one-way. Yuuji repeated that in his head until it became a desperate prayer that she couldn't see his adoptive father plunging his cock inside him, no matter how clearly he could see her .
But hysteria gripped his heart all the same, and his irrational mind couldn’t stop imagining that he was perfectly visible, and everyone now knew how he moaned and writhed while getting fucked by the man who raised him.
Mean-spirited as always when horny, and with a downright evil sense for when Yuuji was on his last tethers, Satoru snickered and slapped his ass again, harder than before, the shock bringing Yuuji to full-blow panic. His cunt tightened and squeezed Satoru to the point it became painful for the both of them.
Yuuji’s eyes rolled up and tears spilled down his cheeks, his hole spitting out a fresh wave of juice. Inside, he could feel the hard line of Satoru’s cock throbbing against his fluttering walls.“Yuuji, don’t be rude,” Satoru gasped, voice straining to sound playful and paternal, “Say hi to your little friend.”
Sobs wracked through Yuuji, tears welling in his eyes. Pain, pleasure, humiliation- all the lines between them blurred and turned his head into a chaotic and scorching hot storm, and he barely eked a muffled, pathetic “hi” behind Satoru’s palm.
Unable to see anything through the window, the girl frowned and wandered away. Yuuji didn’t have time to feel relieved, because Satoru snatched him by the waist in a bruising grip and nailed him hard into the passenger door.
Now free, Yuuji’s lips fell open and cried loudly into the window, fogging over the glass with his own hot breath. He was running on fumes- every deep thrust made him collapse a little more, turning his legs to jelly until he was nothing but a soft and pliant hole for Satoru to enjoy to his evil heart’s content.
He prodded insistently at the entrance to Yuuji’s womb, eager to sheathe himself entirely inside. Weak and helpless, Yuuji panted sharply against the glass, his tongue lolling like he was some kind of puppy. Every slam into his delicate cervix made his pussy flutter and spasm, pushing him hard to the edge.
“Gonna come, darling? Me too.” Two thick arms, corded with muscle and strength not even Yuuji could resist, snaked around his ribs and held him tight. Satoru leaned into his ear and coaxed in a honeyed voice, “Come with daddy.”
That was the moment the tip of his cock finally breached inside the snug ring of flesh, the tightest, innermost depths of Yuuji’s vagina that lead directly to his tender womb. It ached and throbbed around the blunt, bulbous object piercing it open. Wet slick gushed from Yuuji, flowing freer than ever like he’d just peed himself. He couldn’t even scream. It felt like Satoru punched all the air from his lungs just now.
Choking in silent torture, pleasure dug deep into Yuuji and carved away at him until nothing remained but molten syrup, sweet and heavy in his belly. His eyes rolled up and his body spasmed as though electrocuted. Orgasm hit him like a truck, hot slick spurting from the tight seal between his entrance and Satoru’s thick shaft.
He didn’t even feel the sharp teeth digging into the back of his shoulder. Behind him, Satoru tensed, the impressive sculpt of his body locking up and holding him tight like he was a precious thing someone might try to snatch away. A gush of something wet and slightly cool poured inside Yuuji, and Satoru ground his hips in short, tight movements as he fucked himself through his orgasm.
For a moment, all they could do was remain in place and try to catch their breaths, Satoru licking soothing lines across the fresh sting of tooth marks on Yuuji’s shoulder, and Yuuji, waiting for the colored spots in his vision to clear.
With a contented sigh, Satoru slowly pulled out in one long, delicious drag. Yuuji’s pussy contracted and flexed as though fighting to keep him inside and they both shivered at cool air on their exposed skin. Suddenly empty, Yuuji’s lower mouth gaped and twitched, struggling to close after being stuffed so full. Something wet and thick oozed from it. Somehow, Yuuji had the brain space to remember an important detail, and he groped nervously between his legs. They’d done it raw a few times, but Satoru had always pulled out.
His heart dropped into his stomach when his fingers brushed over his entrance and felt something much thicker than slick drooled from it. “Condom- you weren’t wearing a-”
“Our wedding is coming soon, same with your birthday.” Satoru brushed his fringe from his forehead, a handsome gesture that made the muscles in his forearms flex. All the activity earlier loosened his kimono further, the edges just barely clinging onto his shoulders and offering a generous view of his sculpted chest. Aside from his clothes, he looked remarkably composed for someone who’d just fucked his underage ward in public and creamed his womb.
“Finishing inside is so much better.” Satoru’s expression turned wolfish, and he grasped one of Yuuji’s ass cheeks, digging in his thumb and pulling the flesh apart until his pussy lips parted again. Grinning, Satoru obviously appreciated the mess he made on Yuuji’s tender body. “Look at you, you might as well already be my wife. And no one has to know I got you pregnant in the backseat of our car, right outside your school,” His cock glistened, shiny with their intimacy, like Yuuji had marked him with his slick just as Satoru marked him with his seed. Inside and out. He winked, carefree in a way only a man who held the world in his palm could be, “Lucky you, your husband already has parenting experience. So don’t worry and get pregnant for me,” he said breezily.
“You want a baby now?” He wanted children too, but they’d hardly talked about when exactly they’d have them. Yuuji assumed it would be on their wedding night, or maybe some vague amount of time after.
Satoru groaned as though Yuuji had touched his cock and pulled him back into his lap, peppering closed-mouth kisses on his cheek and face, “Yep. I want to take up all the important spots in your heart and your life. I’m greedy like that. Husbands can be divorced, but a child’s father is forever. Not that I’d ever allow you to divorce me,” he said lightly, composed and easy-going as usual as he pressed another kiss on the tip of Yuuji’s nose.
He’d never want a divorce either, and it surprised him a bit that Satoru’s ever considered it. Someone would have to be crazy to divorce a handsome, capable man like him. “What if I tried?” Yuuji asked, with no greater meaning than idle curiosity.
Satoru smiled, eyes crinkling into slits.
“Don’t,” he said simply, with a smile that could freeze the sun.
A cold wind blew from nowhere, raising gooseflesh on Yuuji's arms. Somehow, such a vague answer was scarier than anything he could’ve imagined him saying.
A mechanical tone rang from above, jolting Yuuji until his heart nearly leapt from his chest. Somehow, Satoru managed to fill up the space around him until he’d almost forgotten that they were completely surrounded by people. He squirmed to dress himself, only for the arm around his waist to tighten its hold. “Satoru-san, let me get dressed,” he whined.
Ignoring him, Satoru pressed the button to activate their side of the intercom. “Yes?” he asked so smoothly and so unruffled that even Yuuji wouldn’t be able to tell he’d just gotten off.
A voice crackled from above, their driver’s polite, crisp speech ringing from the speaker. A shaded window separated them. Looking through it would require Satoru to unlatch the lock from their side. “Please excuse my impertinence, Gojo-sama. I received a call from Ijichi-san requesting your immediate presence at Jujutsu Technical College.”
Satoru clicked his tongue in a manner very unbefitting of an elegant and mature parent. When it came to work, he often sounded no better than the thugs Yuuji traded punches wi. “I’m taking Yuuji home first. Go ahead and drive.”
Satoru ended the call, and Yuuji naively thought they were done until he was grasped by the waist and turned around. “Satoru-san?! H-Hold on-”
“What? It’s a thirty-minute drive back to our estate. We’ve got time,” Chuckling shamelessly, he lined his cock back to Yuuji’s hole and sank back inside.
“Wait, it’s dangerous! We need to- our seatbelts-!”
“Don’t worry. Just stay close to me. I’ll keep you much safer~”